


the meaning of the words you see

by florenceandthemachine



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dirty Talk, M/M, Masturbation, Mistaken Identity, Nurse!Buck, Phone Sex, Sexting, Texting, Voyeurism, Wrong number, no beta - we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:21:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26868856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/florenceandthemachine/pseuds/florenceandthemachine
Summary: unknown sender: Hi!unknown sender: Just wanted to say thanks for letting me buy you a drink, and for your number. Sorry I had to run.unknown sender: I’m Eddie by the way.sent: hey umsent: i don’t want 2 be this guy butsent: i think u mayb put the wrong # in ur phone
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 53
Kudos: 814





	the meaning of the words you see

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elisela](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisela/gifts).



> For the lovely [Eli](https://hearteyesforbuck.tumblr.com), who asked me for—  
>  **Eddie tries flirting with someone at a bar and either gets told an incorrect number or types it in wrong, but continues the conversation when it turns out that the guy he ends up messaging is actually nice (and hot ... he’d sent Eddie a selfie to prove he wasn’t lying about not knowing him).**  
>  —and instead, I shelled out nearly 9k from Buck's POV, some cute selfies, and a dash of smut.
> 
> this absolutely went off the rails, but I hope you like regardless!
> 
> xoxo flo

Buck was about halfway through a twelve hour shift and waist deep in charts when his phone buzzed. 

He tried his best to ignore it, at first—Dr. Green had been on the warpath all day today while this years batch of interns were being shown around, and the last thing that Buck wanted to do was get yelled at in front of a group of literal medical children. It was hard enough for nurses to get respect, especially from new doctors, and he wasn’t going to allow himself to start on the wrong foot with a batch of newbies.

When it buzzed three more times, though, Buck felt his hand twitch, bending over the counter of the nurses station to make sure that the coast was clear before he pulled it out of his scrubs pocket. The only people who would matter enough to text him knew he rarely answered his phone on shift, so it must have been important, or—

Oh. Or, it was something else entirely, as the four texts coming in were from an unknown number. 

**unknown sender: Hi!**

**unknown sender: Just wanted to say thanks for letting me buy you a drink, and for your number.**

**unknown sender: Sorry I had to run.**

**unknown sender: I’m Eddie by the way.**

Buck stared at the messages for far too long, his brow furled in confusion, before realization—and a fair amount of second hand embarrassment—hit him like a ton of bricks. 

Poor, poor Eddie.

**sent: hey um**

**sent: i don’t want 2 be this guy but**

**sent: i think u mayb put the wrong # in ur phone**

He winced as he sent that last message—he had been in that position before, with a girl giving him a random number just to get him to fuck off, and he sincerely hoped that it was just a typo on Eddie’s end. 

When he felt the phone buzz against his leg once more, Buck sighed, signing off on another chart before pulling it out once more. 

**unknown sender: Ha ha, very funny.**

**unknown sender: [New MMS Received]**

Buck almost dropped his phone, because holy fuck, Eddie was hot. Hot like burning. He had dark hair, buzzed close to his head, deep eyes, a smile that Buck could almost feel through the screen—he had to compose himself for a moment before he swiped the picture away.

**sent: yeah uh like i said, wrong number**

**sent: im a dude lol**

**sent: good pic tho**

**sent: definitely use that 1 when u find who ur supposed 2 be txtng**

He only barely managed to stow his phone before he heard the telltale sound of slip-resistant heels on the tiled floor—sure enough, as soon as he looked up, Dr. Green was wheeling round the corner, a crowd of interns at her feet. 

“This is the nurses station. Nurses are your friends, so do not make them your enemy. Be nice to the nurses. Do not question the nurses. You might think you know more than the nurses, with your little fresh from med school pea brains. You do not.”

Buck had to stop himself from laughing as she spoke, her tone effortlessly clipped, taking a moment to scan the crowd. Most of them had their heads down, scribbling away in notepads—great, so they had to remind themselves to be decent human beings. He continued his sad evaluation of the newbies as a familiar body came up beside him, looking equally as unimpressed. 

“Doctor Wilson.”

“Nurse Buckley.” Hen rolled her eyes as she grabbed a tablet from the dock at the nurses station, logging herself in quickly. Eyes rolling as she grabbed a tablet from the nurses station, she logged herself in quickly, letting her gaze trail over the top of the tablet as the crowd scurried away. “You picking out some good interns for me?”

“You were an intern about five minutes ago.” Buck reminded her, a wicked smile on his face. “Just pick the intern that acts the least like you did, and you’ll be great.”

“The blatant disrespect, the cruelty, and—“

“You were such a cute little intern, too. Whatever happened to that, Dr. Wilson?”

“—and you still won’t just call me Hen.”

Buck only laughed as he started to walk away, phone beeping in his hand, Hen’s continued protests following him down the hall. 

By the time his shift was over, Buck had successfully re-set two broken legs, had removed an embarrassing amount of things from various noses, and had participated in countless on-the-fly storytimes. He really loved his shifts in Peds—he loved kids, always had—but as much as he loved honing his skills on tiny bodies, he always itched to get back into the emergency room where he felt he belonged.

Shuffling all of the shit in his pockets (seriously, how did he always accumulate so many pens?) into his locker, he had absolutely zero plans for the future other than the longest, hottest shower, when he noticed a few glowing icons on his phone. It must have gone off sometime during his rounds, the buzz easily ignored when he was constantly in motion.

Opening up his messages app, he snorted with laughter as he saw the messages scroll across his screen.

**unknown sender: Oh my god.**

**unknown sender: I am so sorry.**

**unknown sender: That was so weird of me, I shouldn’t have sent you a picture in the first place.**

**unknown sender: I am so so sorry.**

**unknown sender: I’ll leave you alone now.**

Buck couldn’t help the smile on his face as he shook his head, thumbs hovering over the keyboard as he debated a response.

**sent: no worries, i was just at work. done now**

**sent: did u find the rite #?**

To his surprise, the number responded almost instantly. Buck chucked his scrubs into the hamper in the locker room as he responded one handed, grabbing a toothbrush from the locker and a towel from the rack as he made his way to the locker room showers. 

**unknown sender: No, but I’m still sorry about the picture.**

**sent: bro calm down, not like u sent an unsolicited dic pic or anything**

**sent: selfies r nbd. and i wasnt lying, that was a good pic**

**sent: im buck btw**

Laughing to himself again (he was funny, okay, fuck off) Buck snapped a selfie in the locker room mirror. It wasn’t anything scandalous—his hair was a little messed up from chucking his scrub top away, face a little unkempt—he definitely needed to shave before his next shift. The tattoo at the top of his chest was barely visible, but more importantly, his badge was hidden and it would be impossible to make out anything about where he was.

He sent it off without a second thought, shooting a quick follow up message ( **there now we r even)** before he dove into the shower, letting the hot water beat the day out of his body as he hurriedly brushed his teeth.

He had to be back on the floor in less than eight hours, and he had an on call room with his name on it. 

\--

Normally, Buck was the type to take “New Intern Day” off (hell, he’d take the whole week off if he could), but when the opportunity came up to cover a shift in the emergency room, Buck jumped at it. After all, if there was one thing he loved more than working in trauma, it was watching these bright eyed little shits get their asses handed to them in trauma. If the patients and the high pressure environment didn’t chew them up and spit them out, then—

“Russo! Kinard! You’re with me today.”

—then Hen, the literal terror of trauma, certainly would.

So he was a little bit of a sadist. Sue him.

He hadn’t received a response from Eddie—not that he expected to—when he woke up that morning, so instead of some adorable awkwardness, Buck was focusing on pulling every last morsel of joy from the extra large coffee he snagged from the cart in the lobby before he set his things down around the nurses station in the ER, eyes scanning the beds quickly. From the looks of it, the night crew had been put through the wringer—while several beds were in the discharge process, none of them were empty, and he took a moment to let the sounds of the emergency room wash over him as he took another sip of his coffee a half second before it was stolen out of his hand. 

“Yes, good morning to you too, Dr. Wilson.” Buck said, brow arched against his hairline as she took a long drag from his coffee, wincing in disgust a moment later. “Buck, we’ve been over this. I’m Hen. You’re Buck. And coffee should not taste like a sugary milkshake.”

“And like I have said, I am Nurse Buckley, and you are Doctor Wilson, until whenever we’re both off shift. You worked hard for that title, and I’m not about to let you forget it.” Buck said with a grin. Buck had been one of the only people who recognized Hen from her previous life as a paramedic—he had started with Sinai during her last few months before she started medical school, and would never forget the paramedic who nearly beat an intern with a bedpan on her way into the emergency room.

Laughing as she took the tablet, she gave Buck a small salute before returning to the terrified interns, and Buck felt his own face push into a grin, eyes already pouring over the data from the previous night. His hand was on autopilot as he felt his phone vibrate, unlocking the device, giving it a spare look and doing a double take as he saw who the message was from, as the next few rolled in.

**unknown sender: Sorry, didn’t mean to blow you off. Things got a little crazy at work. My shift just ended.**

**unknown sender: That’s a good picture, too. By the way.**

**unknown sender: The one of you, I mean.**

**sent: ;)**

Buck didn’t know why he was continuing to engage with a complete stranger, but honestly, he didn’t know why the complete stranger was continuing to engage with him, either. But he wasn’t going to let something as simple as that ruin the good mood he had starting today’s shift. 

**sent: so u said u just got off? what do u do?**

**unknown number: Oh, I’m a firefighter.**

**unknown number: Started at a new station about a year ago.**

**sent: lol, im sure all the kittens you save from trees thank u**

Buck snorted at his own joke, tapping a few icons on his phone to save “Fire Eddie” as a contact, adding a few fire emojis for the shit of it. 

**Fire Eddie: What about you, what do you do?**

**sent: im in nursing**

There had been a time in his life where Buck was… well, not embarrassed to admit that, but where he was just tired of explaining it. 

Yes, he was a nurse, yes, he was a man. No, he wasn’t in it for “all the ladies”. No, he wasn’t in it because he failed out of medical school. 

Thankfully, far from a point of shame, it just became an easy way for him to weed out those who weren’t important in his life. Doctors, he had learned, were the first to out themselves as giant assholes—in the five years he had been at Cedars-Sinai, every year, there was always an intern that tried to show a nurse up and undoubtedly got sent home crying. 

Or fired.

Buck had been the lucky recipient of the asshole intern three out of those five years; now, though, he sincerely was hoping that he wouldn’t have to eviscerate Eddie before he got to school some poor little intern. 

When his phone buzzed again, Buck allowed himself a moment of disappointment—

**Fire Eddie: Oh, damn.**

—before the followup came through.

 **Fire Eddie: One of the few jobs cooler than mine.**

\--

\--

**Fire Eddie: Okay, here’s what really matters. Star Wars or Star Trek?**

**sent: you kidding me? Star Trek any day of the week.**

**Fire Eddie: Wow, you capitalized and added punctuation. You must really be passionate about it.**

**sent: i h8 u**

Buck, oddly enough, had been having a really great couple of weeks. He was right on the money in an intern trying to show him up (and then he got to make said intern cry), he had completed another few rotations through Peds and Ortho (there was something oddly satisfying about popping someone’s shoulder back into place), but as weird as it was to admit it, texting Eddie back and forth was actually one of the high points of his routine now. 

Eddie’s wrong number was something of a boon in Buck’s favor, he thought, because he was pretty sure they were on a fast track to becoming friends, even if they had never met in reality. Eddie was smart, and he was nice, and he could somehow read Buck’s sarcasm through his text messages and replied back with a delightfully dry tone.

**Fire Eddie: Woe is me.**

**__**_Delightfully_ dry.

**sent: did u srsly just say woe**

**sent: r u secretly a 50yo english teacher**

**sent: its ok u can tell me**

**Fire Eddie: You caught me. On my days off from the station, I moonlight as a college professor.**

**Fire Eddie: But I guess I look pretty good for 50, right?**

**Fire Eddie: [New MMS Received]**

That was another thing they had been doing. Sending photos. Nothing groundbreaking, barely even personal—Buck had sent him a picture of his coffee three days in with a prayer hand emoji, Eddie had responded with a picture of an annoyingly healthy looking breakfast, and the rest was history.

Buck had taken a picture of every fire truck and ambulance that drove past the hospital and sent them to Eddie with the caption “is this u”. Eddie had responded by sending Buck a photo whenever there was a nurse on television. It was harmless.

So, when Buck opened his phone and saw a selfie, saw Eddie looking up at him with white teeth and crinkled eyes and an honest to god grin, Buck couldn’t help it.

He _blushed._

“You’re blushing.”

Buck jumped as a white coat sidled up next to him, painfully pointing out the obvious, glaring up at Dr. Wilson as she smiled back at him. His glare only lasted a half second before his face brightened, unlocking his phone and turning the phone. “Hey, you were a paramedic before you went to med school—he look familiar?”

Hen took her sweet time putting down her tablet, closing out a chart before looking over, her eyes snapping up to Buck after a half moment. “So this is the wrong number that basically has you attached to your phone. He’s a good looking guy, Buck. And I like girls.” 

Any heat behind Buck’s scowl was immediately negated by the blush that bloomed over his cheeks, snatching his phone back as Hen laughed at him. “No, sorry, I don’t know him. But I only knew my house, really. He could be in any other station in Los Angeles, if he’s even in Los Angeles.”

“Pretty sure he’s at least near the city, he sent me a skyline picture at an ungodly hour a few days ago when he went on a run.” Buck said automatically, not realizing how much information he had given out until it was too late, Hen eyeing him critically as his blush only deepened. “Shut up.”

She laughed and snatched his phone back, easily opening the camera app and taking a picture of Buck’s surprised face—a few more taps had the picture sent, and Buck only had to guess once to guess the recipient, despite his protests.

“No, that’s so weird! Why would you—“

“Hey, he sent you a selfie, I sent him one back.”

“Hen—“

“Shush, it’s Dr. Wilson now, I’ve got rounds.”

Buck was left sputtering as she practically glided away, scrambling to open his phone and see what abomination Hen had sent, opening the conversation quickly, but he barely had time to open the photo before a response came through.

**Fire Eddie: Wow.**

**sent: wow?**

What the fuck did that mean?

**Fire Eddie: It’s just, you’re really handsome.**

What the fuck did _that_ mean?!

Mercifully, Buck was taken out of the moment as a code rang through the overhead speakers, happily pushing that to the back burner of his mind as he started to work on autopilot, wheeling the crash cart into a room down the hall.

He thinks I’m handsome, Buck thought, charging the paddles to 200 joules. 

Eddie the Gorgeous Firefighter thinks I’m handsome, Buck thought, easily threading an intubation hose down a patients throat.

The thought carried him through the rest of his shift—it was next to non-stop, as he hoped whenever he had a shift in the emergency room. His phone, the conversation, everything was forgotten when he was in the throes of patient intake and ambulance deliveries—even when Hen had seen her old firehouse come in with a set of gurneys, she had barely spared a quick nod and a smile before she was back in Doctor Wilson mode, ordering interns around and taking lead. 

By the time his shift was over, Buck had three more texts waiting on his phone, and he let out a groan as he unlocked his phone with one hand, working a kink in his neck out with the other as he stepped out of the showers in the locker room. 

**Fire Eddie: Was that too much?**

**Fire Eddie: Sorry if that was inappropriate for me to say.**

**Fire Eddie: I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.**

Fuck. Eddie was cute and he was nice. Buck found himself smiling at his phone as he toweled off his hair, chewing on his bottom lip. His thumbs hovered over his keyboard for a moment as he tried to plan out what he had to say, tongue trailing over his canines for a moment as he typed. 

**sent: ok look**

**sent: ur not allowed to be as hot as u r and considerate**

**sent: that’s against the rules**

He watched as the bubble appeared, then disappeared, twice, as he waited for Eddie’s response, laughing as it came through.

**Fire Eddie: Wait, you think I’m hot?**

**sent: hot like burning**

**sent: in fact im updating ur contact rn**

**sent: u r now known as hot eddie**

\--

\--

They were flirting.

There was no way around it, they were flirting. 

Buck was flirting with someone, had been for weeks now. And said person was flirting back with him!

Once they got that initial attraction clarification out of the way, texting with Eddie became easy, easier than Buck had ever imagined. They exchanged pictures (through messages, still—when Buck had asked about Snapchat, Eddie asked if that was a band) more frequently now; of themselves, of their work, of their home life, of things they found interesting. 

Eddie favored gym selfies, Buck found, which was as obnoxious as it was hot. It was almost painful to see Eddie’s stupid, fluffy hair slicked with sweat, pressed to his forehead, or his stupid, lose smile after a good workout—especially when Eddie added captions that went _right_ to his cock, like **I bet I could bench press you.** **:)**. 

Buck wasn’t sure when Eddie had learned to use emoticons, especially when he still added periods after them, but Buck had retaliated in sort with all sorts of… well, they weren’t exactly lewd, but maybe… partially, potentially, lascivious selfies. Selfies that, maybe, showed off the tattoo on his chest with an arm overhead. Or the tattoo on his arm, when his arm maybe was flexed.

Or the tattoo on his stomach, he decided, on one of the rare mornings when he didn’t have to pack up and haul ass out of his loft before the sun was up; even as sunrise got later and later as the winter months neared. He was in bed, he had just woken up, he felt sleep-tousled and light, and the first thought in his mind was ‘I should text Eddie.’ Had he been of sound mind or body, he might have realized how deep he had gotten himself from that alone, but instead, he pulled his phone out and snapped a picture. 

Upper body fully on display, the tattoo beneath his ribs was painfully prominent (as was the dip of his hipbone), and he didn’t even bother with a filter before typing out an easy caption. 

**sent: a suggestion 4 u next time u want 2 take a dumb gym selfie.**

He took a minute to stretch out in his bed, eyes drifting closed for a half second before he felt his phone buzz in his hand. When he opened his phone to see the picture message in response, expecting Eddie making some cheesy face at the camera or some rude hand gesture, what he instead finds is none of the above. 

Instead, he sees a kid. 

A kid with red glasses and curly hair and a smile that 100% came from Eddie. The picture was slightly blurred, like the photo was taken on the run, and the ghost of what he was sure was Eddie’s hand in the photo confirming that. He stared, dumbfounded, at the photo, feeling a certain heat splash over his cheeks. 

Eddie… had a kid. Or at least, was around kids. That was one thing, but—

Oh, fuck. Does this mean that Buck accidentally sent a nearly-nude to a child?

He gasps and drops the phone on his bed, eyes wide with literal horror as he covered his mouth, eyeing his phone like it was a live grenade. He—well, no. It wasn’t a nude, it was just… close to it. He was still wearing shorts, not that you could see them in the photo, because he was covered in a blanket, because it wasn’t a nude, which meant he wasn’t a creep and a pervert. Eddie had sent plenty of shirtless selfies! He wasn’t at fault here! Just because his was in bed, and kind of more… seductively posed?

Oh, _fuck_ , he was a creep.

His phone ringing brought him out of his mental horror, into an entirely new realm of physical horror. 

**Incoming Call: Hot Eddie**

Somehow, the timing was almost perfect. He and Eddie hadn’t talked yet, nothing more than texts back and forth, and while Buck had been fighting with himself to bring it up for a week or so, it was somehow easier to consider answering when he thought he might be talking to a kid. 

Picking up the phone, he stared at it for a while longer, the stupid amount of emojis behind Eddie’s contact ID giving him some sort of reassurance as he hit the green button. “….hello?”

“Buck!”

Okay, definitely a man's voice on the other end, not a kid. Well, he had come too far to hang up now.

“Hey, Buck, I’m sorry about that, I—Chris, no, sit down.” 

Chris. Eddie had a kid named Chris. 

“Chris was playing on my phone, and he saw the message come in and just responded, and—Buck I’m so, so sorry.”

“Woah, Eddie, hold on.” Buck said, sitting up in his bed, He had thought about this, about talking to Eddie, but it was always imagined to be in a more… personal way, not in Eddie rushing out apologies. “Why are you apologizing to me?”

“Uh—I mean, I…” The sudden pause in Eddie’s speech made Buck smile—it was comforting to know he wasn’t always as put together as his messages made him seem—before he heard a rush of air. “I have a kid?” he finally got out, and Buck laughed in spite of the situation. “And I didn’t tell you about him, and I know we’ve been kind of… um…”

“Flirting, Eddie.” Buck said, a smile on his face, deciding to take pity on Eddie for the time being. “We’ve been flirting with one another. Or at least, I’ve been flirting with you. I’m not sure if you got that memo, considering some of those tacky gym selfies…”

A loud peal of laughter took Buck by surprise, but what was really surprising was the warm feeling pooling in the pit of his stomach. “Eddie, if you think I’m going to stop flirting with you just because you have a kid, you are sorely mistaken. Your kid is, however, cuter than you, and that really would be a shame if you weren’t an English professor in his fifties.”

Eddie laughed again, and Buck felt that warmth spread, wrapping an arm around his shoulder as Eddie composed himself, clearing his throat. “So, you… you don’t mind that I have a kid? It’s not a… I don’t know, a hard stop or whatever for you?” 

Buck had to bite his tongue before he responded, knowing whatever sarcastic or teasing remark that would have tumbled out of his mouth wasn’t what was best right then and there. “Eddie, I’m a sucker for kids. I know that what we’ve been doing is a little… atypical, or, whatever, but I really like talking to you, even before you were sending me thirst traps at the gym, when we were just texting. Your kid is a part of you, and I don’t like you any less for it.”

“You, um… you really like me, huh?”

Buck felt his face melt into a furious blush as Eddie spoke, clearing his throat awkwardly, rubbing his head with a free hand—cursing his big mouth, even though no one was there to witness it. “Actually, I think I said that I really liked talking to you, but… Yeah, Eddie, I really like you.”

The sigh on the other end of the line gave Buck pause, and he was back to grinning as Eddie responded. “Good. Because I really like you too. I, um, I have to get ready for work, but I’m glad we got to talk. And I’ll text you between calls, okay? And maybe, um. Maybe we can talk later too?”

“I would really like that.” Buck said with a smile, feeling his stomach flip over in anticipation. “I’ll practice my best hotline voice.”

“Hotline voice?”

Struggling to keep his laughter in, Buck lowered his voice, doing his best worst sultry voice and breathing directly into the phone. “Hey there, big boy.”

“Oh my god.”

“Thanks for calling.”

“Goodbye, Buck.”

“So, what are you wearing?”

“Oh my _god goodbye Buck_.”

\--

**sent: ok Eddie here’s the deal**

**sent: if I don’t get to take u on a date soon irl im gonna die**

**sent: and id look bad if i died. im a healer**

**Hot Eddie: Couldn’t agree more. We need to go out, for your sake.**

**Hot Eddie: Are you off on Thursday?**

If Buck would have known how easy it would have been to move things along with Eddie and just _talk_ to him, he probably would have picked up the phone ages ago, because talking to Eddie was fucking great. 

It was an easy way for Buck to unwind after a shift, and it was a fun way for him to pass time while he was working out, and sometimes when he felt like he was about to go out of his mind with a patient or a particularly tough case, he just called and let Eddie tell him about his day, or about one of their calls, or even something that Chris had picked up at school that day, and it was like all of his stress just ebbed out of him. 

The real problem (and yes, it was a problem—Hen, stop laughing, this is serious!) was that once Buck started that ball rolling, it just made him realize how much _more_ he wanted. 

**sent: nope, next day off is the 6th, y/n?**

**Hot Eddie: Doing a double that day.**

More than anything, Buck wanted to take Eddie out on a date. A real, proper date, where Buck got to pick him up and maybe bring him flowers and kiss him goodnight and maybe come up for coffee, okay, but only if Eddie was into it because he was very sex positive but also respected boundaries whenever he could. 

But of course, they were both first responders in one of the busiest cities in the world, which meant their schedules never fucking lined up.

Texting was nice, and their snapshots were nice, and calling was even better, but Buck… Buck wanted more. He was yearning, damn it. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take looking at Eddie through a screen instead of in person, or hearing his voice through a tinny speaker instead of in private, and for the love of god he didn’t know how many more nights he could wake up after dreaming of Eddie and his smile and his _arms_ and keep pretending that everything is okay when he wakes up and has to go to work like a regular human. 

**Hot Eddie: What about the Tuesday after?**

**sent: can’t, stuck in the er.**

Normally (read: after Abby), Buck would keep this feeling bottled up inside of him. He would have taken all the longing he felt and shoved it right into the back of his mind and let it fester and die there. He would have rather jumped off of the Golden Gate than have to admit to someone that he cared about that he had deep feelings for them, but…

But, last week, Eddie had called him in the middle of one of his overnight shifts, a crying, panicked mess after a particularly bad nightmare.

Eddie had called _Buck._

Eddie had trusted _Buck_ to talk him down, to help him center himself, to remind him that he was okay and that Chris was okay and that they were all safe. He had trusted Buck to help bring him down to reality, and it was Buck’s voice that ultimately helped him lull off to sleep again. Buck had stayed on the line until Eddie’s breathing had evened out, and even then, he waited before hanging up, feeling a warmth and a joy and something dangerous in his heart that he hadn’t felt in a long time, something that he hadn’t expected to feel again, and especially not so soon. If you would have told him seven months ago that a mixed up text would have him feeling like this, he would have walked you up to the psychiatric floor of Sinai himself.

Did Eddie feel the same way? Buck had no idea, but he felt like he at least owed it to Eddie to be honest about what was going on in his head. If Eddie didn’t feel the same, if Eddie wasn’t interested in anything outside of texting and calling, if Eddie thought that they were just being flirty friends or whatever, then it was no skin off his nose. 

(It would be a lot of skin off his nose, but that was beside the point).

To the surprise of absolutely no one, Eddie had solved the problem—or, more precisely, redirected it—in a way neither of them had expected. 

Buck was on the last mile of his before-an-overnight-shift-but-still-daylight run when his phone buzzed in his little armband, slowing his pace as he pulled it out. He was a little confused when he saw a reflection of his own face instead of Eddie’s contact ID (it was a picture of he and Chris, one of the many that Buck had saved and loved through their weeks of talking), until his eyes lit up with realization.

Eddie was FaceTiming him. 

He slowed his pace to a jog so he could hold the phone steady and hit the green button, knowing full well he was grinning from ear to ear. 

“Hi Eddie!”

“Hey, Buck, I thought it would be nice to—oh, uh... am I, uh, interrupting something?”

“No, you’re fine, just finishing up a run before I have to go in. How was your shift?” Buck said, holding the phone back so Eddie could see the sidewalk he was on, the city streets around him, and (somewhat) unintentionally, the black shoes, socks, and running shorts that Buck was wearing, because that was all he was wearing.

He didn’t think much of it as he rounded the last corner to his block, chatting easily with Eddie, even if Eddie did seem a bit distracted (“What? No, uh, Chris is having dinner with Abuela, everything’s great, how are you?”) as he took the stairs, two at a time to get back to his loft. 

Eddie was in the middle of telling him about something one of his teammates did (and seriously, what kind of name was Chim?) when Buck opened the door to his loft, head tossed back in an easy laugh as he made his way to the kitchen. He set his phone down on the counter, propped up against the backsplash so he could still see Eddie’s face, wandering to the fridge.

He opened the door to the fridge and bent down to grab a bottle of water, but shot back upright as Eddie let out a choking noise, his story abruptly stopping.

“Eddie, are you sure you’re okay?” Buck asked, concern written on his face as he got a little closer to his phone, undeterred by Eddie’s reverent nodding. He waited until Eddie spoke again to uncap his water, almost spitting it out when Eddie finally found his voice. 

“So, uh... that’s your usual running attire, huh?”

Buck blinked as he looked down at himself, his cheeks pinking up even as a small smile crossed over his face. He took a sip of his water and shrugged with one shoulder, making direct eye contact with the camera on his phone as he swallowed, leaning back against the wall. 

“Yeah, it is. You like what you see, Diaz?”

He wasn’t sure what was more encouraging—the way Eddie’s entire face went bright red (and Buck wondered, not for the first time, how far down that blush went), or the kind of guttural noise that Eddie made. Buck beamed, more than encouraged as he kicked off his shoes, one hand resting across his chest as the other splayed across his thigh, just past the hem of his short running shorts. 

“Buck, you…”

Letting his hand run across his chest, Buck sighed as he leaned against the wall, arching his head, showing off the long column of his neck as he licked his lips. 

“Buck, you’re gorgeous.”

The word caught Buck off guard as his eyes widened, smile blooming over his face as he ducked his head, tugging on his own shoulder awkwardly. He could feel his cheeks pinking up as he looked back at his phone, seeing Eddie smile at him, chewing on his own bottom lip. “Yeah?”

“Seriously. You’re so fucking gorgeous, wish I could… I can’t wait to show you in person.”

Buck felt his own movements slow as he chewed over his next sentence, giving a half shrug as he looked into the camera. “Why don’t you show me now?”

Eddie blinked, like the thought hadn’t even occurred to him, and suddenly he was standing up straight, quickly pulling off his shirt, the phone showing the ceiling for a moment before Eddie picked it back up, the frame shaking as Eddie headed—what looked like down a hall, to what Buck assumed was his bedroom, smiling the whole way; _god_ he was cute. 

He was gripping himself through his shorts, feeling heat start to pool in his cock when Eddie came back into focus, laying down on his bed. Buck felt ten feet tall under Eddie’s gaze, eyes dark and wide, watching every touch of Buck’s fingers against fabric as he started to mirror the motions. Eddie was still blushing, Buck noticed, feeling a smile push onto his face as he let out a contented sigh. “What do you like, Eddie?”

Eddie’s hand stilled a little, biting his lip. “I’m, uh… I’m pretty physically affectionate.” Eddie started, and Buck watched as his free hand spread over his stomach before palming his cock through his briefs, stroking himself slowly through the cloth. He waited until Eddie was looking at him to nod his head, silently asking Eddie to go on.

“Kissing, I love kissing. I’d love kissing you, and, uh…” Buck licked his lips, practically feeling Eddie’s words sink into his skin. “And touching. Buck, I want to touch you so bad, wanna feel you in my arms, god, you look so good…”

Buck let his hand dip below his waistband and let out a little grunt in spite of himself, eyes drawn to the screen as Eddie repositioned himself, the sound of fabric against skin coming through the speaker, and then— 

—gone was any sense of modesty as Eddie laid down again, phone held above his body, now completely naked, and Buck felt his mouth literally water. “Eddie, holy _fuck_.”

Eddie was gorgeous from the waist up, of that Buck already was aware, but things only got better below the belt. His legs were strong, thick with corded muscle and dusted with dark hair, his smooth skin getting lighter from above the knees to his waist, where Buck literally found himself unable to look away from what he was sure was the most perfect dick in existence. He felt himself throb in his own hand as Eddie swelled, shoving his running shorts all the way down, kicking them off to the corner of the room as he licked his hand. 

“Damn, Buck, I wish you were here with me. God, you’re so pretty, even your _dick_ is pretty, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” 

Buck panted as he heard Eddie start to speak, giving himself a few languid strokes before starting to pick up an easy tempo, combining the motion of his hand with a slow roll of his hips, eyes glazing over as Eddie groaned again. Buck could only watch, mouth open and panting as Eddie started to stroke himself, pulling the skin back from his darkened cockhead, and Buck grunted again as Eddie’s eyes closed in pleasure. 

“Shit, E-Eddie, would you touch me like that?”

“Buck, I can’t wait to _taste_ you.”

Buck felt an honest to god shiver go up his spine as he spit in his hand, grabbing himself and abandoning any sense of a tempo as Eddie continued to talk, his own whimpers lost in the promises that Eddie was making to the open air. Buck didn’t know where the camera shy Eddie had gone, but he absolutely loved the transition, dragging his fingers in his free hand across his chest as he tweaked a nipple, feeling the twinge of pleasurable pressure go straight to his dick, now leaking with every stroke he gave. He gasped when Eddie mentioned his perfect ass and had to squeeze himself, shivering again.

“Eddie, I’m not gonna last if you keep talking like that.”

The angle changed as Eddie switched his camera, and Buck suddenly had a perfect view of Eddie’s stomach, the barely-there hair across his abdomen, thickening and darkening into a perfect patch around his cock. Buck couldn’t be held accountable for the noise he made as he watched Eddie stroke himself, swiping his thumb over his own cocked, smearing a messy bead of precum over his thumb as he squeezed, pace becoming faster, erratic. “Holy, holy fuck, Eddie, that’s so hot, you—“

“Buck, Jesus, I’m—fuck, gonna cum, fuck, _fuck—_ “

Buck felt his breath catch in his throat as he watched Eddie coat his own hand in cum, and Buck barely made it five more strokes before he was seeing stars. Gripping the door of the fridge behind him for dear life, his knees buckled, repeating Eddie’s name like a chant as he tried to catch his breath, chest heaving, body slick with sweat as he started to come down from his high. When he was able to focus on his phone again, the camera was back on Eddie, looking every bit as blissed out as he was.

There was a moment of silence between the two of them before Eddie grinned, breath coming a little quicker, and suddenly they were both laughing with one another, to the point of tears, any chance of tension gone between the two of them as Eddie brushed his sweat slicked hair out of his forehead. He was the first to catch his breath as Buck tried to calm down, smiling dopily in the screen. “I, uh, I have to get cleaned up, Chris will probably be home soon, but… Buck, you’re just… perfect, you know?” Eddie said, and Buck let out a contented sign, vaguely aware of the pressure of the wall against his back, anchoring him back in the present. 

“For sure, I gotta get ready for work too, but… text me, yeah?” Buck asked, and the look Eddie gave him melted his heart. 

“Count on it, Buck. See you later.”

\--

\--

**sent: am i amazing? yes i am ask me why**

**sent: ok ur taking too long so ur probably on a call**

**sent: but i switched shifts and got tuesday off!**

**sent: and if ur still off i would v much like to take u on a date and probably kiss u a lot**

**sent: also maybe blow u in the parking lot of wherever we have dinner**

**sent: tomato tomah-to**

Smiling to himself as he pocketed his phone, Buck rolled his neck, looking around the emergency room as he signed another discharge sheet. Things had started to slow down for the day, and while Buck wasn’t about to comment on anything aloud (and risk jinxing the rest of his shift) he could certainly appreciate a moment of peace.

Stretching his arms over his head as he left the nurses desk, he snagged a tablet and started to make the rounds around the beds and the separate trauma rooms. His initial glance in Hen’s direction turned into a double take as he saw the expression on her face, the sixth sense buzzing in the base of his skull as he took a couple quick steps toward her.

“Dr. Wilson? Everything okay?” 

He followed her gaze to the television in the emergency room, permanently fixed on the local news so they could try to stay on top of anything that might result in a flood of patients. Right now, though, it looked like the biggest thing happening was a... crane collapse, or something, in the middle of a field just outskirts of the city.

“Doctor Wilson?”

“That’s my house.” Buck looked from the scene to her in a moment of confusion, before things clicked into place—that was her old fire house, responding to what the subtitles said was a missing child. 

He looked warily between her and the television for a moment more before forcibly putting his tablet in her hands, redirecting her attention to the device. “I need to have you sign off on the discharge for beds four, nine, and sixteen.” he said, raising his brows as she made eye contact with him. “Cmon, you know they’re good, you trained with them. They’re gonna be fine, and you’re going to hear what I’m sure will be a hell of a story the next time you go out for drinks with them.” he added, a small smile on his face as she nodded. 

“You’re right. I’m sure Chim will find a way to make it all about him, though, I’ll have to get the full story from literally anyone else.” Her tone was lighter, a little less tense as she swiped her finger across the tablet, and Buck smiled as he took it back from her. Something about what she had said tugged at the back of his mind, familiar in a way he couldn’t quite place, but he was content to let it slide if Hen was smiling at him. 

He looked up as she turned fully to him, clearly about to say something when her phone went off, drawing both of their attention. She stared at it for a moment before closing her eyes, shaking her head as she turned on her heel. “One of my interns fucked up a central line, and now I have to go make him cry. Let me know if anything good comes in!” she called, and Buck waved her away as she turned down the hall, his own smile dimming a little as he pulled out his own phone. 

**sent: so like…. im sure everythings fine**

**sent: and i no ur always careful**

**sent: but be careful on ur calls tonight ok**

The sinking feeling didn’t go away, not entirely, but Buck didn’t realize anything was wrong—was really, really wrong—until about an hour later, when an ambulance pulled up into the bay without getting a phonecall from dispatch. 

That happened on occasion; rarely, but it did, and it usually meant that every person in the rig was so focused on keeping whoever was in the back alive that they forgot to call it ahead. Buck shouted to a few of the doctors and nurses in the emergency room as he grabbed a gown and moved to the doors, tying it quickly around his waist as he pushed his hair out of his forehead, meeting the driver--a shorter, Asian man, covered in mud and muck as he pulled the bay door open. 

“What do we have?”

“Male, about six foot, hundred eighty pounds. Hypothermic, went into v-tac in the rig, nearly drowned.”

Buck nodded as the doors swung open, seeing the shape of a body in a mess of shock blankets and hypothermic wrappings, starting to pull the gurney into the doors. 

“He got a name?”

“Hes, uh, hes one of ours.” the man said, and Buck’s eyes flicked up to him, catching the scrunch of his brow and the tic of his hand as they pushed into the emergency room. “Edmundo Diaz.”

Buck blinked as the words hit him, feet still moving on autopilot, seemingly taking an hour to move his eyes from the paramedic to the man on the gurney. He felt his heart clench—seeing Eddie, his fucking Eddie, wrapped in silver blankets.

“Chim?” 

It wasn’t until he heard Hen’s voice from down the hall did he snap back to reality, welcoming her by his side as they pushed the gurney into a trauma room, coordinating a transfer into a hospital bed easily. He was glad to stand out of the way and take orders as Hen and another attending started to run evaluations, handing supplies and pushing epinephrine, starting an IV, anything to keep his hands busy.

Thankfully, it looked like the worst of Eddie’s problems had been dealt in the rig—Eddie started to regain consciousness almost immediately after Buck pushed the epi, heart rate stabilizing, temperature sluggishly getting back to baseline, and Buck’s fucking hands were still shaking. 

Hen, thankfully, was the one to pull the tube out of Eddie’s throat—Buck felt like he might snap if an intern fucked it up—and he felt his heart sink as Eddie started to cough, chewing on his bottom lip as he stood, frozen to the spot.

He kept himself all but hidden behind Eddie’s chart as Hen spoke, ever the professional, and he felt a pang of jealousy that she was able to be so composed, unflappable, while Buck just stood there. Hiding. Like a coward. It wasn’t long before she excused herself so Eddie could get some rest—Buck heard the dismissal in her voice and was a half second away from following at her heels, and—

“Hey.”

Buck couldn’t help but freeze as he heard Eddie speak, knowing full well that it was directed at him. He looked up from the tablet, his mind still bouncing between deflection and straight up avoidance.

“Hi.”

“Are you mad?”

Somehow, that simple question brought Buck to a standstill, his fingers frozen in place over Eddie’s chart before he sighed, the tension draining out of his body in one fell swoop as he sat down in one of the chairs by Eddie’s bed. “No, Eddie, course not. It was just… kind of scary, is all. Seeing you unconscious before I got to say a word to you. But not mad, no, not at you.” Buck was fully aware of how small his voice sounded right now, but couldn’t really bring himself to care, too busy looking anywhere other than Eddie’s face. 

“Good.”

Movement on the bed caught his eye as Eddie brought his hand up, and Buck thought for a minute he was going to grab something—but it just hovered there, over his lap, fingers extended toward Buck. 

It took him an embarrassingly long time to catch on, and when he did, he knew his face must have been bright red, but he laced his fingers with Eddie’s anyway, a small smile playing at his lips as he let them rest on the bed. “I’m sorry that our first date has to be in my place of employment.” Buck said after a while, thumb trailing over the back of Eddie’s hand, and Eddie snorted in what sounded like a mixture of a laugh and a cough as he shook his head. 

“Oh, no, this is absolutely not our first date. We’re going to go to dinner, I’m going to get you flowers. I’m going to woo you, Ratched, you’re going to be so wooed, and I’m gonna—“

Buck didn’t really care to hear what else Eddie was going to do, especially not under the influence of exhaustion, fatigue, and pain meds, but it didn’t matter; Eddie’s lips were easily quieted when Buck claimed them with his own. Their kiss was easy, soft, fitting together against one another like they had been doing it forever, and Buck knew that the smile on his face matched the blissed out look on Eddie’s own as he pulled back, letting their hands remain together as his free one came up to cup Eddie’s cheek. 

Leaning back into his own chair, Buck licked over his lips as he huffed through his nose. “Consider me wooed, Hot Eddie.” 

Eddie laughed again at that, the sound a little stronger than before, hand squeezing Buck’s as he let his eyes fall halfway shut, clearly on the verge of sleep—but thankfully, a more natural sleep, not one pushed on him by exhaustion and hypothermia. “I can’t wait to tell everyone you’re my boyfriend.”

Buck shook his head again, cheeks pinking up as he leaned back in his seat. “Eddie, I hate to say it, but—“ His cheeks darkened as he heard a familiar laugh outside of the hospital room, not needing to turn and look to know who was leading the gaggle of bodies at the end of the hall.

“… I think Hen beat you to it.”

\--

Two years later, the newest Trauma Charge Nurse at Cedar-Sinai Medical Center felt his phone buzz as his shift started to wind down. Pulling it from his teal scrubs (teal! A sure sign of authority if ever there was one!) Buck felt his smile nearly split his face as the picture downloaded; Chris, fast asleep on the couch, with Eddie snuggled beside him, body hidden under one too many blankets. These moments were becoming few and far between—Chris was on the verge of being ‘too old’ to cuddle with Dad anymore—and Buck saved the photo, as he had so many others, thumbs tapping away easily in response.

**sent: be home soon. love u both.**

**Hot Fiance: Love you too.**

**Author's Note:**

> [come scream at me on tumblr.](https://florenceandthemachine.tumblr.com)


End file.
